


The Games We Play

by Aurora Cee (SC182)



Category: Fast and the Furious Series, The Fast and the Furious (2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Stealth Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:25:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC182/pseuds/Aurora%20Cee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dom likes to play games, but he doesn't like when Brian does, too. A post-The Fast and The Furious AU.</p>
<p>Originally written in 2008.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Games We Play

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2008. Clandestine crossover inside plot. The guys make it to Mexico.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters herein. They are the property of Universal Pictures, Justin Lin, Rob Cohen, and Gary S. Thompson. I'm just borrowing them for a moment.
> 
> Thanks to icesamzero for the beta!

Dom is not a book smart man. He's average, but he may as well have a degree from MIT in reading people. A true Einstein. He knows one thing though: Brian is the world’s biggest tease. And let it be said that Dom is a man all about fairness; any game he starts he always intends to finish.  
  
Since they’ve come to Mexico, things have changed. There's the normal tension between them, coupled with the additional heaps of natural anger and confusion about what happened in L.A. Just too many strings tying them together, incapable of being sorted out and the harder they tried to unravel them, the closer he and Brian are drawn together.

Bottom line: Brian was a cop.  
  
Keyword: Was.  
  
He gives up his entire life to give Dom his freedom. Brian jumping on a semi to save Vince and shooting Jesse’s killer set them about even when considering how devastating the revelation that Brian was a police officer turned out to be.  
  
The ride down, the normal electricity between them had been hot, taut, and crackling, ready to explode at any moment. The Supra gives them safe passage into Mexico and delivered them at the doorstep of a place that was ready for immediate habitation. Inside, the silence between them breaks like lightning and thunder parting the summer night sky. When the dam breaks open three days later, it's an explosion of violence, fury, and action, catalyzed by the unquantifiable chemicals of human force and attraction--lust.  
  
Tired, satisfied, and bruised—they come away with an understanding. They have perfect chemistry when it comes to their bodies. Together, their bodies moves with a synchronicity reserved for the melodies of masterful music; each thrumming and moving in perfect counterpoint to the rhythm of the other.  Dom is like gravity, thick and bulky, and capable of containing the wiry electricity of Brian’s lean frame and inexhaustible will to ride all waves that crossed his path.  
  
A house. A garage.  Sex that leaves them sated and sapped of energy. This is exile and it is as close to Dom’s approximation of perfection as it can be.  
  
It's inevitable that he uses his powers of observation to screw it up.

* * *

  
  
Dom loves testing boundaries. Living his life a quarter mile at a time and going through it as fast as he can, that is his life’s creed. He is a racer and it’s in his blood. Brian, on the other hand, has a surfer’s mentality. He goes with the flow of life and that includes Dom’s bright ideas.  
  
Why does Dom purposefully flirt?  
  
Why do people do anything? Because it feels good.  
  
So he can do this. Flirt with this chica and occasionally look up and see Brian’s eyes on them. It is different being with someone who doesn’t argue or yell when he flirts. Brian understands how he is. Dom likes to look and sometimes he touches too, but he always goes home with Brian. The way Brian’s eyes darken to true sapphire from their natural glacial state speak of exactly how much Brian likes the charade. Dom works the girl up, gets himself hot in the process, and he and Brian will do a buck or so getting back to their place and stumble through the doors. If they are lucky, they’ll make it to the couch, otherwise the show will begin right there on the rickety hardwood floor.  
  
It’s the same deal tonight. Dom sitting across the room. Some busty flirty chica sauntering around him, each loop with more swing in her step. Anyone else would have succumbed a long time ago with the slight flash of her smile or the batting of a lash. By the time she slides into his lap, he should have been gone.  
  
Brian stands across the room gazing at them, a frosty beer in hand as he watches the sight of Dom holding court, flirting shamelessly. Their eyes lock for a total of five seconds each time. Each glance is a tease. He turns back to the chica and pulls her hair aside before taking a deep sniff of her perfume.  
  
She only has a fraction of Letty’s beauty or natural fierce instinct, just enough to keep him mildly interested in the game. His attention is fragmented three ways: Brian, her, and the pool game a couple of feet away. As she begins to nibble on his ear, his eye cuts across the room before they reach her eyes, Dom's gaze falls upon the sight of Brian turning away.  
  
No need to worry, not at first. Dom makes a show of sniffing and caressing her neck, while keeping watch over the bar. Brian’s distraction isn’t caused by him asking the bartender for another beer, but rather a newcomer—someone that Dom would definitely remember, striking up a conversation.  
  
The guy reminds him completely of Brian—in that too-good looking to be a regular person kind of way. He has dark hair, naturally pale skin, and what Dom can estimate as light eyes. American, most likely, and obviously the current recipient of Brian’s attention.

Brian’s presence was never an issue in the bar, because everyone knew he lived in the little house with the garage with Dom. Most figure he keeps to himself, because he doesn’t know much Spanish. In truth, Brian’s Spanish is better than Dom’s. Lots. He just hangs back and stays to himself; it makes sense that he is eager to talk to another gringo such as like himself.  
  
He eyes the Guy again as his speech seems to become more animated than in Dom’s first sweep. The chica dives into his face, seeking a kiss, though he ducks his head back and issues her a cocky smirk, which is met by a pretty pink pout, visibly tacky with gloss. Before she lunges in again, he can see the Guy’s smile spread even further, super brilliant with lots of pearly teeth on display. Brian’s head is tilted back and it’s evident that he is laughing, too.  
  
Fully distracted, the chica dives in for a kiss and completely blocks Dom’s vision. There is no way to see through the curtain of wavy black curls. Dom pulls back and reaches into his pocket and comes back with enough bills to keep her and her friends liquored up for a while. In the time it takes for Dom to lose sight of Brian, the Guy moves to sit beside Brian and they are talking amicably over beers, which the Guy had apparently paid for if the ease of Brian’s smile is telling him correctly.  
  
Dom takes a sip of his beer and allows the sting of lime to mix with the smooth taste of Corona over his tongue. To anyone else, he would have looked like he was lazily waiting for the pool table to open and the chica to return with more beer, but his eyes are discretely watching, calculating, and interpreting the linguistics of the body language of the two conspicuous, gorgeous gringos in the bar.  
  
Like the sun, Dom has people revolving around him at every turn. Any local race. Race Wars. Mexico. It doesn’t matter where—people will always surround him. Yet, Brian is a mystery that has alternated between giving Dom fits and pleasure in the process of unraveling. He is like a singular point in space; one that defies all logic and understanding of others, but attracts Dom nonetheless. The gravity Brian possesses is locked on Dom hard and it won’t be shaken anytime soon. No matter what games are being played.  
  
So he watches.  
  
Brian’s posture is relaxed and he leans slightly against the bar. His eyes are locked on the Guy. Glacial blue looking into some other intensely fair hue. The Guy’s interested, by the simple fact that he can hold Brian’s eye for the majority of the conversation thus far without looking away once. Without feeling just slightly overwhelmed by the intensity of those cool crystal irises.  
  
The Guy says something funny, which causes Brian to tuck his arms close and tip his head back laughing. Not chuckling dryly, but _laughing_ , his head falling back farther the harder he laughs. A tell that is only reserved for Dom these days. He knows all about tells and ticks, but the moment he’d met Brian all that training had flown out the window and had ultimately led to them being here, led to him ignoring Vince’s constant rants that Brian was a cop; this was absolutely a situation of his making.  
  
He can feel the weight of someone’s gaze on him. The chica and her friends are at the bar ordering drinks and looking back at him, gossiping, guessing, postulating on how long it will take before he’ll want to get her into bed. He gives them a smile and a slight nod that is intended to make her shiver like she just did.  
  
Meanwhile, the Guy is giving Brian a Colgate grin that Brian answers with a Crest-white smile of his own. There is nothing wrong with their interaction. Nothing suspect about it. Nonetheless, Dom feels the familiar stirrings of anger. His body tightens up like after a race that was so hard fought to be won, but in was ultimately lost. He and Brian didn’t say things like _I love you_ , though he is the more demonstrative of the two, always tossing out hugs, pats, and head rubs  with greater frequency than the blowing of the wind, but the feeling is implied in everything that they do together.  
  
There is a part of him—the totally rational part that explains the possibility that Brian is giving him a taste of his own medicine with cool rationale. But another voice that speaks louder and with far less calm pitches a major shit as the Guy moves in at that moment, nearly whispering in Brian’s ear, a hand moving up to touch him on the shoulder and slides down his arm. Of course she comes back then, with two beers and her three friends who are equally as pretty and flirtatious.  
  
Ever the gentleman, Dom tries to be civil and flirts with all four, though his main goal is to keep an eye on Brian and the trespasser. He finally gives up when the chica tries to get back into his lap.  
  
“I think this is the part where I say good night.” Dom kisses her on the cheek and begins to rise, but she grabs him and bats her big doe eyes at him, tempting him to stay.  
  
“Do you have to?” She purrs. "We were just getting to know each other."  
  
He does need to go, really.  
  
Dom fishes out a few more bills and hands them over to her. “Enjoy the rest of the night on me since you won’t have my company.” Now, her friends begin to look interested. He seems like a nice guy after all. Their true feelings are in their eyes and he knows that look, saw it in the eyes of his competitors at every race. That competitive spark that says, _I got you_.  
  
He moves beyond the gang of girls and finds Brian’s spot at the bar empty. The Guy isn’t there either. Dom stands in the center of the room and watches the door close. He reaches it before it passes through the frame.  
  
Dom searches the street, first north then south. Where did Brian go? Even for a guy who can handle himself like Brian, it isn’t smart to wander off with some dude—some supposed tourist he meets in a little run down bar in the boonies of Mexico. The Guy may have possessed that All-American boy appeal, but Brian doesn’t know him from Adam. The guy can be the great great-grandson of Jack the Ripper for all Brian knows.  
  
Dom isn’t sure what pisses him off more: the fact that Brian took off with some stranger or the fact he’s done it where Dom can see it?  
  
Up ahead, he can hear footsteps. Fragments of English. Laughter. Enough to keep his righteous anger burning. He walks out of the alley the bar was located in and up to the main street. He can see them up ahead. Brian’s plain t-shirt surprisingly doesn’t look out of place next to the Guy in his cool leather jacket. Though someone should have told him he would scarcely need it in Mexico in the summer, though.  
  
They reach the end of the street and round the corner. A few blocks down the lights become few and far between and the number of dark places increases. Dom’s breath comes in short bursts and his feet pound the pavement to keep up. What horrors will he find in one of those alleys?  
  
The Guy sucking Brian off.  
  
Brian on his knees for the Guy.  
  
Them fucking against some dirty wall.  
  
Red clouds his vision. That rational voice that tries to talk him down earlier has joined the mutiny with the rest of his thoughts and is hellbent on knocking a few of the Guy’s teeth loose. That will teach him a lesson about smiling at someone else’s boy.  
  
He never said say it explicitly, but Brian is his. The Guy’s pretty boy face will be messed up by the end of the night if Dom finds him attempting to physically imply otherwise. He‘ll cuff the back of Brian’s head. Hopefully, they’ll make it back to the house, otherwise he’ll end up giving Brian a demonstration on who he belongs to in the backseat of the Supra. Even though it can be done, it isn’t comfortable for two grown men.  
  
Any second, once he rounds the corner he‘ll find them and his fists will do the talking in a more eloquent fashion than he can manage at the moment. Fists clenched, teeth set on edge, he rounds the corner and sees no one.  
  
There are lots of alleys between the buildings on this side of town. One of these has Brian and the Guy. One of these will have blood on it in five minutes. Then he hears it, a car turning over. The engine is heavy and old, but it good condition; a real steel cage, he processes.  
  
Another Charger? No, a Trans Am. No, it's neither of those. It's an Impala.  
  
Like the sound of one lone wolf calling to another, Dom follows it, wondering if that is where Brian is and if he is okay. Thanks to that stupid movie he wanted to watch, Dom can’t shake the feeling that someone, mystery Guy included, is going to either snap Brian up into a Hostel-like situation, where his All-American boy looks will definitely get him hurt, or he or Brian will be nabbed by the Feds.  
  
Despite Dom's reservations, he continues to walk forward, slowly and deliberately, mindful of every sound. Around the corner, the buildings scatter into a checkered terrain of dilapidated structures with plenty of dark spaces in between. Dom listens, waits.  
  
The engine purrs, sings in a voice that spoke of automotive genius. She’s probably midnight black with a new finish, seats either classic white or gutsy with black interior. There’s plenty of space in the back, unlike the Supra, enough space to sprawl without the possibility of legs hanging out the window or over the seats.  
  
Enough space for Brian and the Guy to get better acquainted.  
  
He shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks up the street. The hum of the engine grows nearer and Dom steels himself, makes deliberate steps to try to maybe hold off his boiling rage. Lights up ahead stream out of an alley and Dom finds himself stopping, as the Impala eases its way out and down the empty road. The driver is obscured, but his other guesses are right. Though the closer the car approaches, he notices an odd whine underlying the engine’s mighty roar.  
  
It eases by him, as if it knows he is watching it, discerning his anger and sense of betrayal. It continues up the alley until it reaches the main road. Dom’s attention returns back to the street ahead. A lone figure approaches him, long and lean; it can only be Brian. His walk is fluid and cockiness emanates from each footfall.  
  
His small smile distills down to a curious smirk when as he reaches Dom.  
  
“Hey, where you going?”  
  
Dom’s sense of outrage feels impugned by Brian’s question.“To find you.” Isn’t it obvious?  
  
“Found me.” Brian says as they begin to walk towards the bar. "No need to look, I'm right here."  
  
“Let’s go.” Dom begins to move and keeps his distance. He needs the space to keep from doing to something really stupid, like grabbing Brian and touching his lips or smelling him, trying to find a trace of the Guy on Brian.  
  
Brian eyes him in that cool fashion. Doesn’t say a word as they get into the Supra, but he can tell by the weight of Dom’s silence that something’s different. “What’s with the silent treatment?” He asks.  
  
They’re a good five minutes away from their place and he wants to pass the time as quickly as possible. The ride is making it near impossible to find out. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment,”Dom replies, his voice rolling out in a dark half growl.  
  
“Yeah, you are.” Brian retorts. He is looking at Dom with the natural intensity that leaves ready to bend to Brian’s will.  
  
“I’m not. “ His knuckles tighten on the steering wheel. “I know what I’m doing and what I’m not.”  
  
Brian shifts in the passenger seat and gazes out the window instead. “Whatever.”  
  
They reach the house and get out of the car without speaking. The sound of the doors slamming disrupts the quiet, though Brian’s attention is directed more towards the beach.  
  
The house is dark inside. It didn’t matter, because the lights are just inside the door. He pulls Brian away before he can reach the wall, keeping them instead in the moonlit room.  
  
Brian faces him, already knowing what comes next despite Dom’s cold shoulder. He stands waiting for Dom’s subtle signal. A twitch of those lips and Brian moves in, but Dom stops him with one iron-fisted hand to the chest, and stares into his eyes which are silver by the moonlight. He can feel Brian’s pulse beat beneath his fingers, strong and fast.  
  
How fast had it been earlier when the Guy had been touching him, he wondered?  
  
Dom’s mouth hovers inches away from Brian’s. “He fuck you?” He asks, bluntly like a shot to the gut. His voice so tight, it sounds like crushing rocks.  
  
“What do you think?” Brian returns, pressing his chest deeper into Dom's touch. "Think we made it the alley just that quick? Me and him. In the dark but out and open where anyone could see his hands on me or my hand down his--." Brian's description tapers off to a tortuous drip. "Or maybe not. Or maybe it was his mouth...Had nice fat lips, y'know." Brian adds in a considering tone. "Really nice."  
  
Dom tows Brian in by the back of the head, bringing their lips together in a slow kiss. The simple act of kissing Brian always invokes the dramatic vision of water being poured over hot steel; Brian’s cool meeting Dom's constant state of heat could only produce something as magnificent as a geyser of steam.  
  
His lips roll over Brian’s, pressing forward, demanding entrance to his mouth, to suck his tongue, and search for evidence. Brian obliges, tilting his head just so—allowing Dom’s tongue to seek and taste, analyze the flavor of Brian’s mouth.  
  
It’s Corona and lime, nothing else. He can let it go here, but Brian is so willing to let him investigate, there has to be something. His tongue caresses Brian’s, before he pulls back and licks his own lips, soaking up the taste of Brian there.  
  
Brian’s natural scent, like sunshine and sea air, reaches his nose. “You get jealous and let him touch you? Suck you, didn’t he?” He turns Brian around and brings his back against Dom’s chest. His nose nuzzles those curls that are now longer and unbleached at the ends at the base of his neck. He inhales deep breaths of Brian; nose sliding down his neck as Brian pushes his head to the side and reaches up to caress Dom’s clean-shaven head.  
  
Dom undoes Brian’s belt. “Yeah, just like that…Stroked you first and made you hot and hard.” He muttered into Brian's flushed skin.  
  
Brian’s body is taut against him and the little noises that rise from Brian’s throat are a combination of sighs and moans. No one else can draw Brian out like this, make him lose control like Dom does.  
  
He slips his hand inside Brian’s jeans and beneath his boxers, easily making contact with his cock, which is rising to peak hardness. Brian surges back against him like choppy seas breaking on a seawall when Dom takes him in hand. “Did you want him to do this?” He whispers darkly.  
  
Dom's thumb and forefinger stroke over the head, gathering as much pre-come as they can before sliding down the whole shaft again. Their hips buck in time with Dom’s strokes. Brian surges towards his fist, while Dom grinds against his ass.  
  
The sound of Brian’s ragged breaths fills Dom’s ears, making it hard to ignore just how hard he is as well. In his mind’s eye, he can see Brian biting his lip, his mouth already shiny and swollen, and waiting on the borderline of agony and ecstasy for Dom to bring him off. Dom’s fingers massage his balls and the skin a little ways back. Brian spreads his legs wider and gasps when Dom returns to his cock, wrist snapping twice as hard intending to make him come. “Fuck…like that.” Brian says in a half gasp.  
  
“Fuck no…” Dom’s free hand winds its way through those blond curls. “You’re mine. Just mine.” Dom’s voice is dark and possessive and causes Brian to shiver against him.  
  
“Same here.” Snapping his wrist faster and with his fingers cupping Brian just a bit tighter, Dom makes him release spurt after spurt of come over Dom’s hand and the inside of the boxers.  
  
He turns Brian around and grips his hips firmly, because the blond feels completely boneless. He rubs his cock into the juncture of Brian’s hip. It doesn’t even bother him that he has another man’s come on his hand; it is Brian’s and that is all that matters.

  
They make their way into the dark bedroom by Dom walking them, where Brian stops once the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. In the dark, they strip and Dom falls on top of Brian. The bed makes a sound that’s something between a whine and a groan.  
  
He’s in perfect position, resting as comfortably as he can with a cock that is hard enough to pound nails lying between them. Brian’s legs rest on either side of him, giving him the perfect view of golden terrain ahead. When he is with Brian in bed, there are no thoughts of anyone else. Just his personal perusal of the peaks and valleys of Brian’s lean physique.  
  
Dom is a man that knows surprisingly well about compartmentalization. There are cars and there is everything else, which consists entirely of Brian inside his tunnel vision. One of his favorite pastimes is investigating the skin in and around Brian’s navel. Something hard taps against the back of his head.  
  
Lube. Brian’s way of telling him to hurry up.  
  
“Yeah, I bet you made him hurry up too…” Dom kisses and suckles the skin near Brian’s hip, before biting down just a little too hard. In the morning, his mark will still be there.  
  
Brian taps him on the head again. “You’ll have to find out.”  
  
They are like a team when it comes to time management. Dom slicks himself up, while Brian does the same. Though being in the dark deprived him of seeing how Brian looked, with his legs all spread out and fingers buried inside of himself. The sight reminds him that Dom might have always wanted to be a driver, but Brian could have done anything. A cop. Driver. Model. Porn Star. Though the last option would cause Dom to act like a crazy man, and then he would have to kick the collective asses of the entire world.  
  
Dom crawls up Brian’s body and resettles himself between the cradle of his thighs. Brian’s hips push forward to meet his. A finger circles the hole. Brian is hot and slick, but still tight. The thought fills him with possessive pride and the rising vibration of anticipation.  
  
The first push allows the head of his cock to settle inside. A second thrust and Brian’s fingers dig into shoulders and the heels of his feet dig into the small of Dom’s back. This time will be like doing a quarter mile. Hard and fast and full throttle, all speed and no stopping until the end is crossed.  
  
Brian grips him like vise and directs Dom where to go. He surges forward, hips throwing him deeper and his cock rubs that tiny spot so many times the friction can start a fire. Brian’s arching hard against him, his back bending like a bow, so tight it seems like he will snap in half under the bulk of Dom’s heavy body. Their breaths come out in ragged puffs. Dom’s low grunts to Brian’s airy gasps.  
  
He might live his life a quarter mile at a time, but he wants this one to last as long as it can. He lifts Brian’s hips higher and forces himself deeper. _Just a bit longer_. Brian’s dick juts into his belly. Dom pushes the Brian’s hands out of the way and jerks him fast and furiously, determined to make Brian come again before he does.  
  
His jack-rabbiting hips still as the first hot jet of come hits his stomach. He returns to action approximately three seconds later, pushing himself from zero to a buck twenty before Brian squeezing his cock ended his run right then and there. It feels like he hasn’t come in years.  
  
The roar in his head translates to a silent scream as he comes buckets. Brian grips him hard for a second time and then gradually relaxes beneath him. His arms completely give up, causing him to land on Brian just a little too hard. But Brian’s a big boy; he can take it. Can take anything Dom gives him.  
  
Brian rubs his head softly. “I like it when you’re jealous.” Brian says before kissing him on the lips. “It’s always fun for me.”  
  
Dom drops his head to Brian’s chest. He snorts and says, “I wasn’t jealous.”  
  
Brian rolls him off to the side and can’t contain the sudden swell of laughter that rises from his chest. “Yeah, you weren’t jealous. I guess that’s why you followed me and our next client out to where his car was parked just so you could stare him down like you wanted to eat him for breakfast.”  
  
"I was thinking about safety." Dom lies, too fucked out and stubborn to admit he was jealous. He won’t say it aloud though. “Well, it’s not a good idea to walk into a dark alley with some random dude…”  
  
Brian silences him with another kiss. One of those soul searing explosions of feeling and a thousand words unspoken kisses. “Whatever, man. I think I like having my personal superhero, scouring the streets for me. Jealous-Man to the rescue.”  
  
“ _Kicking assholes to the side_ must be my motto.” Dom says, laughing just a little between more kisses.  
  
Dom might have a degree in street smarts, but Brian has a Ph.D in reading him. So any game Dom plays, Brian can follow it just as easily. They talk about the game eventually and why they do the things that they do. Until then, they'll keep playing with each other and simply keep each day of freedom a little more interesting.


End file.
